The Barcode (Part 1)

- How did he get into our photo, like this, out of the blue?

- I don’t know. He must have been sitting there for a while... but we never noticed it...

- What's that mark over there, on the back of his head?

- It looks like a tattoo... Zoom it, please... I think it's a barcode!

- Ugh!!! What kind of people would do that? I’m not saying that’s not original... but he looks more like a soldier or a scientific experiment, than a normal man. A bar code is not a beautiful picture anyway to be tattooed on someone’s head...

- He is pretty scary, actually and not the type you want to meet when you are alone in a dark alley...

- He’s not that scary, I think... or is he?

They both laughed. They had been scrutinizing the details of a "selfie” just taken on the terrace of the Café, where they were relaxing for a while. A stranger was clearly seen in the background for their own surprise. He was a big man, with shiny shaved head and was sitting half back to them. A weird tattoo was engraved on the back of his head, almost where the neck began. A black T-shirt, tightly fit to the body and arms, evidenced hard muscles worked out for long hours in the gym and weight lifting or perhaps even military training. The skin was very tanned, but in a natural and permanent way, as of a person living in the tropics, used to the outdoor life and the effects of many hours of skin exposure to the sun.

An uneasy feeling went through the minds of the two friends, who slowly turned around, without saying anything. The place where the stranger was, however, was already empty and there was no one around with similar-looking, to their frustration.

- I had a bad feeling.

- Weird. Me too…

***

- Let’s go to the public marketplace. I’d love to have something nicer to eat and drink.

- It smells like fish. And there’s too many people...

- Stop being fussy and let’s move. There’s also a lot of people here on the boardwalk and you don’t complain. I don’t like to stay so long in the sun and I'm making you company anyway. I would rather sit on a bench, underneath the fig tree and see the passers-by or go to some cooler place, like those corridors in the Marketplace...

The Public Marketplace was an old building that had been restored to have some modern features introduced, but keeping the original architectural pattern of over two centuries ago. The last reconstruction had rescued both the style and the initial colors standard.

The moss-green Roman arched doors and windows contrasted harmoniously with the yellow walls of the building. The very high ceilings kept the building cool and pleasant throughout the warm season, without the need of air conditioning.

Two separate structures, the north and the south wings, were connected by Roman arches on the extremities, with one lookout tower on each extremity and, in the central part, there was a little square that housed the terraces of a food court, frequented both by locals and tourists.

Open corridors ran over the heads of passers-by, facing the inside of the small square. Stair accesses, one on each side, at the entrance and exit, completed the harmonious and simple frame, but with a strong presence in the old city center.

At the time when it had been built, the south wing was closer to the port, to facilitate the unloading and avoid unnecessary expenses on transportation of various goods and the fish that came fresh from the open seas, in numerous fishing boats of the island's companies. It was the place where the best, most abundant and fresher fish was sold. 

Later on, the bay was dredged up and the sand taken from the bottom of the channel filled part of the area where the quay was initially, causing the need of the docks to be moved to the other side. The building of the marketplace, however, remained in its original place, with its traditional trade, tailored to the needs of the local people, tourists and merchants.

The two entered the south wing, which still held the trade of fish and seafood, but had also evolved to a series of 'boxes', closer to the entrance, where they served typical and traditional dishes of the island. They ate some crab and shrimp fried balls, the local delicacies, while sipping a cold draught beer and watched the passers-by coming and going with their loud talk, trying to make themselves understood in the midst of a Babel of strange and familiar accents.

At the other end, the 'boxes' were in a frenzy trade and the scent of fresh fish, because of the wind, came towards them.

- I said this place stank...

- Of course. This is the fish marketplace after all...

A young woman dressed in very dark clothes walked in with quick steps. She had very black and shiny hair arranged in a braid that fell down along her back, leaving the white skin of her neck at sight.

For a second, the boy wearing glasses had the impression he saw a small mark on the back of her neck, on the base of her braided hair, as he watched the woman haste up and disappear through the center exit door which led to the north wing. The young man looked at his friend with a strange expression and an unexpected paleness to his face.

- What is it? It looks like you're going to pass out... You all right?

- I think the bar code tattoos are in fashion around here…

- What? This is nonsense...

- I think I saw someone else with the same kind of marking... Come with me... I want to be sure of something...

The two rose and went toward the exit. 

Someone pushed them briskly to the side, moving quickly ahead and without apologizing. It was a big, muscular man with a shaved head, dressed in a black t-shirt. Behind the head, on top of the neck, there was a small tattoo, depicting a bar code.

- Let's go!

The two followed the man with quick steps. That could not be a mere coincidence. At the other end, amongst the passersby who walked lighthearted, a dark-haired woman with a long braid, also dressed in black, walked very fast, without looking back. The man was very close to her and somewhat away from the two, at that time.

The two boys walked forward when she turned left, after passing the arch over the east entrance, with the shaved head man following her very closely.

They turned left when they reached the portal, but could not see the two characters they were chasing without even knowing why, amid the people walking up and down the busy streets. They looked around, but did not see that man or the woman. They ran up the street behind the Customs building, but no one who looked like them walked with fast or slow steps...

They had simply disappeared in the midsummer afternoon buzz.

The two young men finally gave up and went on, without even talking, following the striders who walked around and ahead over the cobblestone mosaics of the boardwalk floor.

A street musician played an old guitar and sang a known song to a tiny audience.

Behind the Venetian door of the lookout tower entrance of the public market, a big man with tanned skin, kept a hand covering tightly the mouth of a girl with black hair and pale skin. The other arm held her fragile body very firmly, preventing her from moving... 

On the outside, life was going on still and normal with tourists and locals walking by, oblivious to what was happening behind the venetian blinds of the green painted door...